Episode 117
I was about to prove that I was the real Luan Badniker, but I suddenly changed my mind. I've been gone for four weeks. About a month. Not a short ti by any ans. How much stronger have they grown in that span?
The mont I landed after jumping down from the tree, Mir charged without hesitation, swinging her sledgehamr with fierce montum.
I twisted my torso slightly to dodge, genuinely surprised by the force behind her strike.
This girl... There are almost no unnecessary movents.
The old Mir would have frozen stiff just standing before a big monster. Now, there was no trace of fear, and her eyes stayed locked onto .
Then Evan's sword slashed diagonally through the air, and I dodged again. Their coordination wasn't perfect, but it felt natural.
Watching their second and third follow-up strikes flow seamlessly, I nodded inwardly. It is Raven.
If Juan had succeeded in the ritual, what would have beco of Evan?
I already knew the answer from my first life. Evan would have survived training camp sohow, but he would have completed his awakening as a Young Dark Pope.
He would then infiltrate the Hero Society, hiding his true nature. In other words, the actual timing of Evan Helvin's betrayal actually happened years earlier than anyone knew.
And now?
The Evan standing before was still the one I rembered—stubbornly clinging to his family's swordsmanship, driven by a desire to honor his father's na, and dreaming of one day defeating a demon king with Raven.
I was genuinely glad. Without Juan's ddling, Evan would eventually follow in his father's footsteps after a brief period of wandering.
Just then, an intangible arm shot up from the ground. It was Charles' blessing.
I jumped slightly to evade the hand, countering by punching Evan and Mir in the chin as they attacked from both sides.
As they gasped and staggered back, I leapt onto a nearby tree again.
"What are you doing? Are you out of your mind?" Charles reprimanded them.
"Ugh. B-but he is too quick...!" Mir stamred.
"You think I can't see that? I can't believe he deflected our joint attack like it was nothing," Charles gritted out, glaring up at .
I sat on the branch and said, "From the way you're talking, one would think you pulled off a great joint attack. The formation's decent, but your coordination's still clumsy. And your ambush timing? So obvious, it was boring."
Mir stared at blankly. "Are the undead able to talk so eloquently?"
"Sothing's definitely off," Evan chid in.
Still, they didn't seem completely oblivious. Their grips on their weapons loosened slightly.
Only Charles kept her guard up. "Don't relax. This forest is ssed up. You never know what kind of monster might appear. It may not be an undead, but a monster that causes hallucinations."
"Now that you ntion it..." Evan muttered.
"We'll change the formation. I'll take the lead this ti, and Evan will..." Charles lowered her voice.
I observed their faces as they discussed the new strategy. The words were harsh, but there was trust in their voices. They weren't friends, but they had beco comrades. Compared to their first eting, this was practically affectionate.
For a mont, I imagined standing beside them and smiled faintly.
Was it a bit disappointing? I wondered if we could have grown closer and stronger faster if I'd been part of their group from the start.
Then again, that could just be my inflated sense of self.
I clapped my hands, drawing their attention.
"Let's stop fighting. I'm not undead or a hallucination. I am the real Luan."
Charles sneered. "Soone who's been missing for over four weeks suddenly shows up, and you want us to believe that?"
"Fair point. In that case, ask sothing that only I would know."
"A question and answer out of the blue?" Charles, who had been mocking , suddenly froze, then cleared her throat, and hesitantly asked, "T-then what does Sir Hector like?"
"I don't know."
"When is Sir Hector's birthday...?" she asked.
"How the hell would I know?"
"You are brothers!" she snapped.
"We aren't very close, are we?" I retorted.
"Before, you boasted about how he thought you were cute!" she shot back.
Did I?
"Charles, let ask the questions," Evan interrupted, stepping forward while Charles eyed suspiciously.
In his usual calm tone, Evan asked, "Where does your mother co from?"
"Coland, in the north of the empire," I replied.
"What is the na of the swordsmanship I use?" he asked.
"Raven."
"Who held the number one spot for leadership points the last ti we checked?"
"That bastard, Charon," I spat.
"Who is your roommate at the training camp?"
"You, obviously."
Evan humd, looking troubled. "S-sounds right."
He stared at , his expression growing even more complicated. "I thought you were dead. What the hell happened?"
I replied, "A lot of things. As a result, I got lost for a bit."
"For four weeks?" Evan exclaid.
"That's how vast the forest is."
"Hmm..." Evan seed skeptical but couldn't outright dismiss my explanation.
"Anyway, it's good to see you guys are doing well," I said. "Did you collect a lot of orbs?"
At the ntion of points, the three of them tensed up. They seed to have realized that, besides the monsters, a fellow hero disciple could also be an enemy.
"You don't need to freak out. I'm only after the purple orbs." As I spoke, I watched Mir carefully, knowing she had trouble masking her facial expressions.
Mir let out a loud sigh of relief, and her grip on the sledgehamr loosened slightly.
So, none of them have purple orbs.
At the very least, these three didn't have any.
I suddenly grew curious. If they had possessed one, what would I have done? Taken it by force? Let them go?
Even I didn't know.
"And why should we believe you?" Charles demanded.
"How about this?" I pulled a blue orb from my pocket and tossed it toward them.
All three flinched and dodged at once.
"This..."
"It is a blue orb. I don't rember how many points it's worth," I replied.
"Fifteen points!" Mir exclaid.
"Ah, that's right. Thank you."
Mir chuckled. "No problem."
Charles leered at Mir before looking at . "The blue orb is worth a lot. What's your angle?"
"I don't have one. You can only carry three orbs at most anyway, right? I'm planning to fill my slots with purple orbs only. I don't need blue ones."
The trio fell silent.
"That said, I'm willing to make a deal. Do you know where any purple orbs are? Tell , and these are yours."
I juggled the other two blue orbs in my hands. It felt awkward with just two. If I had known, I would've handed over the third orb later.
After a brief exchange of glances, the two turned to Charles. As expected, she had beco the leader.
Charles paused before speaking cautiously. "Okay. We accept. But be aware, the situation in the forest is constantly changing. Don't blindly trust the information."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
"From what we know, we have verified the purple orbs' three locations," Charles disclosed.
"I see." I hadn't expected them to have pinpointed them all.
"Your face says, 'This saves so trouble,' but things won't be that simple," Charles said dryly.
I frowned. "Why?"
"First, Charon and SIr Hector each have one," she replied.
No surprise there. My gut feeling had been right.
"Okay. What about the remaining one?" I asked.
Evan spoke up. "The last purple orb's holder is dangerous, Luan. It's better not to go after it."
That caught off guard. More dangerous than Charon and Hector? Is there such a person among the hero disciples?
"There are only three purple orbs in this trial," Evan explained. "The instructors told us where they were from the start."
I had not heard about that.
"There are three especially powerful monsters in this trial. The One-Eyed Ogre and the Butterfly Queen were defeated by Charon and Hector, respectively. That's how they got their purple orbs."
Charles said with a stiff face, "The last monster is too much for us. We once prepared a raid party, but we failed. Fortunately, we managed to escape."
"What kind of monster is it?" I inquired.
"We call it the Cave Master." Evan took over. "It's holed up in a cave in the northern part of the forest. No one knows exactly what it is because it's draped in so kind of weird straw mat. The only thing we know is that it's as big as a giant—"
"It isn't a giant. Absolutely not," Mir cut in sulkily.
I nodded. "Got it. Thanks for the intel."
With that, I tossed them both orbs.
Startled, Evan caught them and asked, "What will you do if you give them all to us?"
"I told you, I'm going after the purple orbs," I replied.
Honestly, if they hadn't known the locations of all the purple orbs, I would've kept one as insurance. Now, I didn't need to worry about that.
I straightened up. Three days was enough ti, but finding Charon and Hector in this vast forest would be tricky. I needed to move quickly.
"W-wait a minute. Luan!" Evan called out just as I turned to leave. He wore a complicated expression, then smiled awkwardly. "I'm glad you're alive."
"You guys too," I said with a thumbs-up, then turned and left for real this ti.
Did they say it was a cave in the north? Might as well start there.
***
Charon Woodjack was born in the Sinking Swamp, one of the four Forbidden Zones of the empire.
By the ti he beca self-aware, weapons were already in his hands. Before he could even walk, he knew the taste of every grass growing in the swamp. He had stared death in the face at least ten tis before reaching maturity. While nobles had been learning manners and culture, he had been learning how to hunt and survive.
Hence, no matter how brutal the Badnikers' training camp was, there was no reason for him to be nervous. His life had been different, his experiences, too.
The sa could be said for the other hero disciples. Despite the structured curriculum, excellent instructors, and expensive elixirs, actual combat was far more important. With instructors acting as a safety net, the camp could never replicate the danger of a true battlefield.
Therefore, the warning of his esteed father, Hyde Woodjack, had co as a surprise to Charon.
"Don't touch the blood of the Badnikers," Hyde had advised.
To Charon, this advice seed odd. Most of Hyde's cautions revolved around monsters—prey to be hunted.
Would this training camp be different? Would the descendants of the Great Families change his preconceived notions of the nobility?
In the end, they did not.
Although the training camp attracted hero disciples from all over the place, none of them caught Charon's eyes, except for one person. Of all the Great Masters, Charon particularly admired Tanko, the Hunting Master.
He knew Tanko's reputation as a Great Warrior, and the philosophy and structure of his classes suited Charon perfectly. Needless to say, Tanko's skills were outstanding.
However, there was a madman who had tried to compete with Tanko from day one—Luan Badniker.
Before noticing Luan, Charon had been focused on Hector, but he quickly realized that Hector was no match for him.
Is he one of the three children that the Iron-Blooded Lord particularly cherishes? Charon had wondered.
As far as Charon knew, none of them were nad Luan.
Interesting, he had thought.
It ant he could enjoy watching Tanko display his skills—assuming the opponent could hold out long enough.
How many exchanges could that scrawny-looking boy survive against a Great Warrior?
Charon had watched the spar with that in mind. For the first ti in his life, he saw the skills of a peer, and his expression stiffened, wondering, What is this guy?
Those without a keen eye would never notice. They would always assu Tanko was simply pressuring Luan.
A fool like Hans had even claid that Luan had been given preferential treatnt. But that wasn't it at all. Luan's physical abilities had been clearly lacking, yet his responsiveness had been flawless—even in Charon's eyes.
If Charon had stood in Tanko's place, he too would have had no choice but to award Luan extra points.
He is ridiculously experienced in one-on-one combat.
This was the only thing that Charon lacked—real experience fighting against people.
Despite that, the gap in skill between him and the other hero disciples was still vast. He had never lost a sparring match. At that level, though, sparring against Tanko was out of the question. Back then, Charon had a feeling that he needed to be more cautious of Luan than of Hector or Seren.
Yet, the one person Charon had been watching closely disappeared for absurd reasons. He had wandered into the forest at an inappropriate ti and vanished.
Naturally, Charon's instincts had told him there was more to the disappearance, but he saw no reason to investigate further.
Since then, he had held the top spot among the hero disciples with a commanding lead. There was no doubt he'd finish in that position.
Claaang!
Charon's eyes narrowed the mont he exchanged blows with Hector. His opponent's sword felt too heavy.
As their weapons touched, Hector asked, "Do you know the points gap between you and ?"
"Who knows...? I don't really care about the scores of those below ," Charon replied.
"It is thirty-even points. But normally, this gap would've been much smaller."
"Ah, is that so?" Charon sneered openly, but Hector didn't seem offended.
"I lost at least one point every single day for the past month," Hector said.
"What?"
"For the past four weeks, my sparring partner has been the hunting instructor, Tanko."
Charon paused.
"Of course you wouldn't know," Hector said. "Like you said, you never bothered to look at the ones chasing after you."
Charon remained silent.
"I was the sa," Hector continued. "I've never beaten Instructor Tanko. I didn't get extra points like that person did."
Hector grinned. "But in the end, I think it was the right choice."
Charon's eyes widened.
Hector twisted his wrist, guiding Charon's dagger smoothly along his sword before flicking it upward with a surge of force.
A sharp sound echoed as the dagger flew from Charon's grasp.
Charon frowned, feeling a sharp pain shoot through his wrist.
"Charon Woodjack," Hector said, smiling, "I think my one-on-one skills are now a step ahead of yours."
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